Falling Into You (Bachelors & Bridesmaids Book 5)

by Barbara Freethy

  "Okay, I'm not liking the word special, because it could mean I'm special like in howl-at-the-moon, talk-to-herself special."

  He laughed. "You do talk to pumpkins but I haven't heard you howl at the moon yet."

  "Come on, Cole, you have to give me more than special."

  "You're a nurturer, Maggie. You're the one they want to tell all their problems to, the one they trust completely."

  "Sometimes they treat me like the little sister," she commented. "It's not bad, and I'm technically the youngest by like two months, but they're always looking out for me, and sometimes I don't believe they think I make the best decisions."

  "They might worry for you, but they know you can take care of yourself. You're soft when you need to be and strong when you need to be. It's one of the traits I like most about you. You're not all one thing."

  His words touched her deeply. She'd never had anyone really see her for everything she was, not just what was obvious. She blinked away some moisture from her eyes and focused on the road. "That's enough about me."

  "I'm not sure I can ever get enough," Cole said somewhat cryptically.

  She wanted to ask him what he meant, but she was afraid she wouldn't get the answer she wanted. In the end, she turned on the car radio and filled the silence between them with music.

  They got back to her house around nine thirty. Cole walked her to the front door.

  "Thanks for inviting me, Maggie. I had a great time."

  "Me, too." She clutched the keys to the house in her hand, knowing that she had a decision to make, and she had to make it now. "I can't ask you in. I want to, but I can't. It would be different if you lived here, if there was a possibility of something longer than a few days, but that's not the case."

  His serious gaze met hers. "I know. It's not a good idea."

  "I thought you'd put up more of a fight," she said, not sure how she felt about his easy agreement.

  "You know what you want, Maggie, and I know what I want."

  "And they don't match up." She sighed. "But we had fun."

  "We did, and our time together is not completely over. I'll be around another week, and I would love to see how you're going to get that massive pumpkin to the judging table at the Harvest Festival."

  "I haven't figured that out yet."

  "I'm not surprised," he said, putting his hands on her waist. "You're a big planner in some ways but fairly unprepared in others."

  "Part of what makes me special," she said with a laugh.

  "This is the other part," he murmured, as he gave her a long, tender kiss.

  The slam of a car door and footsteps coming down the sidewalk broke them apart.

  Maggie was shocked to see her landlord, Antonio Pastorini, coming across the grass. Antonio was in his early seventies and had gray hair, dark eyes, and the olive skin of his Italian ancestors. He lived a half mile away, and she saw him fairly regularly as he liked to pick up his rent in person and check on the property. Sometimes, she thought his visits were just an opportunity for him to talk to someone. He was a lonely widower, having lost his wife two years earlier.

  "Mr. Pastorini," she said. "Is something wrong?"

  "I'm afraid so. I'm sorry to come by so late and to interrupt your evening, but something has come up, and I wanted to give you as much notice as I possibly could."

  "All right." She looked at Cole. "This is Antonio Pastorini, my landlord. This is Cole Hastings."

  "Hello," Cole said with a nod. He turned to Maggie. "Maybe I should head out."

  "Please don't go. This won't take long," Antonio said. "I just came by to tell you that I've decided to move to Miami to live with my sister. I just can't take the quiet anymore. I'm talking to walls all day long. I'm old and I'm tired, and my life isn't here anymore. I've finally come to accept that."

  "Okay," she said slowly, not quite sure where she fit into his plans, but she had a bad feeling she was about to find out.

  "I'm sorry, Maggie," he said heavily.

  "What are you sorry about?" She thought she already knew, but she was still hoping for a miracle.

  "I need to sell the house right away. My sister found me a place in Miami, but I'll need the money from the sale of both this house and the one I'm living in to make the move work."

  "But I need six more weeks," she said, her mind spinning at the thought of losing the house after so much planning and saving.

  "I wish I could give you that, but I spoke to a realtor today. She has buyers who can give me cash tomorrow, and I have to make a decision on the place in Miami by the end of the week."

  "We had a deal, Mr. Pastorini."

  The older man gave her a pained look. "Perhaps you could borrow some money, and I could still sell the house to you. I can give you until Friday to decide."

  "That's really fast."

  "I hope you can work it out. And I'm sorry again. Truly. You're a nice girl. But you're young. There will be other houses for you. I know you'll be all right."

  She had a feeling he was trying to make himself feel better.

  "We'll talk soon," he added. "Excuse me again," he said to Cole. Then he walked away.

  Maggie felt dizzy and weak. Cole put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

  "I don't think so," she admitted.

  "Let's go inside."

  She nodded, then opened the door and walked down the hall to the kitchen. They sat down on stools at the island. "I can't believe I'm going to lose the house."

  "Do you have a written agreement, Maggie?"

  She gave him a blank look. "What?"

  "A contract. I'm wondering if he can just up and decide to sell the house with a few days' notice. Did you have an agreement between you?"

  "It was verbal. We didn't have a time frame."

  Cole frowned. "That will make it more difficult."

  "Difficult to do what? I'm done. I can't raise the money that fast."

  "Maybe you don't have to. You could consult a lawyer, have him find a way to stop your landlord from selling until you can work out the verbal agreement you had."

  "A lawyer sounds like more money I don't have," she said heavily.

  "Well, that's probably true."

  She stood up and paced restlessly around the room. "What am I going to do?"

  "Would your father help?"

  She immediately shook her head, horrified at the idea of asking her father for anything, because she knew exactly what he would say. "That's a no. He believes his children should stand on their own feet, and my brothers don't have money to spare."

  "Maybe I could lend you the money," he said slowly.

  "We hardly know each other."

  "I know you pretty well," he said, meeting her gaze. "I'd like to help you make your dream come true."

  It was tempting to say yes, to let him solve her problems. She'd been standing on her own two feet for a long time, but she couldn't agree to his proposition. If she was going to buy a house, make a home for herself, it had to be on her. "Thank you. That's incredibly generous. But I have to say no."

  "Are you sure? I've made some good investments over the years. I could give you an interest-free loan or a low-interest loan. We could work something out, I'm sure."

  "You'd be taking a risk."

  "No, I wouldn't. I've made riskier investments. I'd bet on you in a heartbeat, Maggie."

  Her heart swelled at his words. "That's a nice thing to say."

  "I mean it. How much do you need to cover the gap?"

  "It doesn't matter, Cole. I'm not going to take your money."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it's your money."

  "I don't need it right now."

  "I have to do this myself." She sat down, trying to think of some other way to solve her problem.

  "Okay, fine. Tell me more about Mr. Pastorini. What's his story?"

  "His wife died two years ago. Since then, he's been lonely and depressed. He owns a small condo nearby, but he couldn't bear to live here after sh
e died, so he rented the house to me. A couple of his other friends have moved away or passed away this year, and he has threatened to move before, but he seems very serious now."

  "It's a hot market. He wants to cash out."

  "Yes, I'm sure that's part of it. I just don't know why he can't wait six more weeks. It's not that long."

  "No, it's not. That's your answer."

  She looked at him in confusion. "What's my answer?"

  "Mr. Pastorini is lonely. If you can cheer him up, get him involved in something, maybe he could hang on for a few more months."

  "But the place in Miami needs an answer. And his sister is there."

  "I'm sure there are other places in Miami. And his sister has probably always been there, right? You need to find a reason for him to stay in Napa a little longer."

  "I can't imagine what that reason would be."

  "Do you know any of his friends? Are there any women he spends time with?"

  "I don't know much about his personal life. We've had coffee together a few times, but mostly he just tells me about his wife. I don't think he knows what to do with himself without her."

  "You need to find him a date." Cole suddenly smiled. "This is great."

  "What's great?" she asked, seeing the gleam in his eyes.

  "I've got the perfect solution to your problem." He laughed. "A taste of her own medicine. We're going to set Mr. Pastorini up with my aunt."

  Her jaw dropped. "You're not serious."

  "Oh, but I am. A little payback will be sweet."

  "Your aunt is my boss. I can't get her involved in my problems. It's not right."

  "She won't know anything about your problems. What's your work schedule tomorrow?"

  "I'm on the early shift—seven a.m. to three p.m."

  "Perfect. Tomorrow you're going to invite Mr. Pastorini to have dinner with you to talk about your situation. He's already feeling guilty, so I'm sure he'll say yes. And I'm going to invite Aunt Ida to the same restaurant. We'll decide to share a table. It's going to be perfect."

  "But what if they don't hit it off?"

  "We'll figure that out when we get to that point. At the very least, Mr. Pastorini gets a night out with people to talk to, which might also help him to change his mind about moving away so quickly."

  His excitement was contagious and she felt a wave of optimism run through her. "It might work. Thank you, Cole. I am so relieved, I could kiss you."

  He opened his arms wide. "Go with the feeling, honey. Live for the moment."

  She laughed. "You're something else, you know that?"

  "Show me."

  She leaned forward and kissed his hot, sexy mouth, then she said teasingly, "If things work out with your aunt and my landlord, there's more where that came from."

  "Ah, incentive," he said with a grin. "I like it."

  She smiled back at him. "And now I'm going to say goodnight, and you're going home, because you're still leaving in a week."

  * * *

  "Anchovies, onions, peppers, mushrooms, the works," An­tonio Pastorini declared, looking at the menu in front of him. "I love a good pizza. But nobody makes it like my Angela used to. She had magic fingers. She'd knead the dough for long minutes to get it just the right texture."

  Maggie smiled as she set down her menu and looked at the older man across the table from her. So far, the plan she and Cole had concocted was working perfectly. She'd convinced Mr. Pastorini to have dinner with her on Tuesday night. Now Cole just had to show up with his aunt. "You must have had a wonderful marriage," she said.

  "We fought like two alley cats for thirty years. But the passion..." His eyes darkened. "Nothing like it." He turned his gaze on Maggie. "Don't settle for less. Pick a man who makes you nervous and excited every time you see him."

  His words made her think of Cole. Since he'd arrived in Napa, she'd been able to think of little else besides him, and she had to admit every time she saw him, she felt a jolt of electricity. But tonight wasn't about her and Cole. This dinner was about convincing Mr. Pastorini to stay in Napa and let her pay off the down payment on the house.

  "Getting married is the last thing on my mind these days," she said.

  "Why? You're not getting any younger. In my day, girls were married before they turned twenty."

  "You know yourself better when you're older, and you know what you want from someone else. You don't get carried away by raging hormones."

  "A little raging is good for the soul, Maggie. It keeps the blood thin; it doesn't clot up on you."

  "I doubt that a medical doctor would agree with you," she said with a laugh.

  "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. I saw the way that young man was looking at you last night and the way you were looking at him. I definitely interrupted something between you two."

  "Cole is just a friend, and he's leaving town in a few days."

  "Then you better stop him from going."

  "I can't. He has his life, and I have mine. We're not really that compatible."

  "Compatible is not everything. Bacon and eggs are compatible, but they'll kill you. Take champagne and strawberries, two different things, and together they're perfection."

  "You have a point."

  "So, are you going to tell me your plan?" Antonio asked with an arch of his thick gray brow. "I assume you've come up with some creative way to buy the house."

  "I'm still working on that. You know how much I love the place."

  "I do know, and I wish I could just give you more time, but the days are so long. My friends have moved away. I'm old and tired. I might as well spend my last days on a beach, see some palm trees and some bikinis."

  Maggie smiled. "If you can still appreciate a good bikini, I think you have some life left in you. Besides, Napa is your home. Do you really want to leave?"

  "It's not the same since Angela died."

  "Well, maybe we could make things better. I could help you find some hobbies or meet new people." She paused. "It's not just about the house; I'd like to see you happier. You've been very nice to me. You're a really good man."

  He cleared his throat with a rough cough. "We bet­ter order, before I choke on all this sweet talk."

  As Antonio finished speaking, the door opened, and Cole walked in with Ida Stratton on his arm.

  Maggie was relieved and happy to see them both. They made quite a pair, with Cole in black jeans and a gray plaid shirt and Ida in black leggings and a teal sweater top that complemented the sparkle in her blue eyes and the glowing smile on her face.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw Mr. Pas­torini stiffen and sit up straighter in his chair, suddenly gaining a few inches of height and confidence. But then he swung his head in her direction and said, "What are you up to?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about." Maggie smiled back with as much innocence as she could mus­ter. "What a coincidence. There's Cole." She waved, and Cole nodded, whispering something in his aunt's ear as they made their way across the room.

  Antonio stood up as Cole and Ida walked over to the table. Maggie jumped to her feet as well, feeling more than a little nervous now that the setup was at hand.

  "Hello, Maggie," Ida said with a charming smile. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

  Maggie cleared her throat, prepared to offer some rational excuse, but she didn't have a chance, because Ida had already turned her attention to Antonio.

  "I'm Ida Stratton," she said, holding out her hand.

  Antonio gently squeezed her hand as he gazed into her eyes. Finally, he spoke in a gruff voice. "Antonio Pastorini. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

  "Finally?" Ida murmured, a questioning note in her voice.

  "I have seen you several times at the theater with your friend Christina. She was also a good friend to my wife Angela."

  "Of course," Ida said. "Now I know why your name is familiar."

  "Why don't you join us?" Maggie suggested. "We have plenty of room."

  "I
s that all right with you, Cole?" Ida sent her nephew a questioning look.

  "It's great," he said.

  As they sat down at the table—Ida next to Antonio and Cole next to Maggie—Ida gave Maggie an enquiring look. "How do you and Mr. Pastorini know each other?"

  "He's my landlord," Maggie replied.

  "Oh. You own the house that Maggie wants so badly." Ida nodded her head in understanding as she glanced at Antonio. "She talks about her house all the time. I almost think she likes it better than my hotel."

  "They don't compare," Maggie said hastily. "The house is more of a cottage, but it really is lovely, and I know Mr. Pastorini had many happy years there, too."

  "Yes, but I would have lived anywhere with Angela. My wife," he added to Ida. "She died two years ago, bless her soul."

  "I lost my husband many more years ago, but I still have the memories. I thank God for those," Ida said in commiseration.

  "Have you two ordered?" Cole interrupted.

  "We were just about to," Maggie replied, almost sorry he had broken up the conversation, but they had plenty of time to push Ida and Antonio together, at least for the evening. "We were thinking of getting a large pizza with the works, including anchovies, which Mr. Pastorini loves."

  "I love them, too," Ida said with delight. "In fact, I adore them, and I never get to eat pizza with anyone who likes them."

  "Ah, a woman who understands food." Antonio shook his head in amazement. "You never married again?"

  "No, I never found anyone else I could really talk to or enjoy spending time with. I like to have fun, and somehow I keep meeting very serious men."

  "I know what you mean." He nodded in under­standing. "Single women of my generation seem more interested in playing bridge or watching television. Me—I'd rather go dancing or listen to some live music."

  "I also love to dance. There's a line-dancing class at the rec center that has a lot of people our age in it. You should come some time."

  Maggie was thrilled by Ida's invitation. Getting Mr. Pastorini to see there was more to Napa than boredom was exactly what she'd hoped to accomplish.

  "I'm not very good at line dancing," Antonio said. "But I can do the salsa."

  Ida laughed. "I bet you can."

  "So…" Cole said, clearing his throat. "I'm going to order the pizza now. Shall I get some bottles of wine or a pitcher of beer?"